


Evergrey

by FaerieBlu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Canon Gay Relationship, Canon LGBTQ Character, Character Turned Into Vampire, Death, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Couple, Gay Male Character, Gay Pride, Gay Sex, Human/Vampire Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Male Protagonist, Mild Smut, Monsters, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Romantic Fluff, Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Vampire Bites, Vampire Hunters, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Victorian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27241837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaerieBlu/pseuds/FaerieBlu
Summary: When the Lord of Vampires himself falls unconscious, half dead in a stranger's garden from grave wounds, he is surprised to awaken tucked snugly into a warm bed with his wounds sutured and freshly wrapped.Luthius Van Helsing, a famed vampire hunter of a lethal caliber has taken him under his wing inside the haunted walls of his manor.However, it's not the vampire's head he is after.Confounded by the hunter's lack of killing intent, the lonely vampire finds himself slowly growing attached to the hunter who he finds is not so different from himself.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	1. Luthius

**Author's Note:**

> (Author's Note: This is a relatively short story I've been writing in my free time that started as a background piece between the meeting and bonding of two of my characters! The story is purely for my own enjoyment)

The night air was crisp and chilling as Luthius stepped out on his back patio to observe the stars while he read, a light book and a freshly lit oil lamp held in his arms. He seated himself on the small armchair he kept out, curling up beneath a snug blanket and cracking open his novel, removing the silk bookmark attached to the spine and placing the oil lamp on the small table at his side.

He often enjoyed slipping out once in a while to read on warmer nights, usually with a cup of newly brewed tea. It made for a nice activity to relax him before going to bed.

However, in the midst of the peaceful ambience of crickets chirping accompanied by the gentle sound of frogs, he heard a loud thud from somewhere inside his garden. Furrowing his brows, he closed the book, settling it at the table and lifting the oil lamp into his hands, drawing aside the blanket and slipping off the chair.

“H-hello?” He called out. “Is someone there?”

He received no response, as one would expect, and lifted the lamp for a better view of his surroundings whilst making his way out past the garden gates. For his own sake, he hoped it wasn’t a wild animal; he’d had quite the tussle with a fox that had been tromping through his lavender, and wasn’t too eager to have to chase another one out, much less in the middle of the evening.

A subtle splash sounded beneath him as his boot touched something wet, and the man glanced down in confusion—there hadn’t been any rain lately. The substance, however, was the a slick black ending stream of a forming puddle in the moonlight, and his stomach dropped.

With a shaking hand, he lifted the lantern to follow the stream.

Luthius drew in a sharp gasp at the sight of a man lying unconscious in his garden at the end of the trail, his eyes widening in horror when he noticed the pool of blood soaking the cobblestones beneath him. “Ah!” He rushed towards the stranger, swiftly easing him onto his back and tearing open the buttons of his shirt to examine the state of his wound. Blood was pulsing freely from a deep gouge in his chest, and didn’t show signs of stopping soon.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Luthius stripped off his shirt, tying it tightly around the man’s wound before doing the same with the stranger’s own shirt. He pushed the man’s mouth open to lean in and check to see if he was breathing, when he spotted four sharp, pearl colored fangs, one set on his top row of teeth, the other on the bottom. Luthius reflexively flinched away, but drew in a deep breath and placed a hand on the vampire’s chest, his other close to his mouth.

The man’s chest was shuddering with uneven breaths, light, strained puffs of air brushing against Luthius’s open palm. Luthius let out a sigh of relief, slipping his hands beneath the stranger’s legs and behind his back and looking towards the nearby stream. “I hope you don’t mind the cold,” he murmured apologetically, carrying him towards the frigid waters and kneeling down beside the stream. “And I sincerely hope I’ll have your forgiveness for what all I’m about to do.”

He rushed back into the manor, darting towards the door to his restroom, where he pulled a basket of medical supplies from a shelf beside where he kept his towels. He grabbed a hooked needle, thread for sutures, a towel, and his homemade jar of styptic powder, shoving them into his pockets, save for the jar, and bolting back towards where he’d left the man. Drawing in a deep breath, he stepped into the stream, hissing at the cold, drawing off the rest of the man’s bloodied clothes and gently pulling the stranger in with him.

Much to his surprise, the cold shocked the vampire awake, his eyes flying open, and he sucked in a gasp of air, proceeding to cough up blood.

“Y-you’re alright!” Luthius assured, kneeling beside him to help keep his chest elevated. “Don’t worry; you’re—” He was swiftly cut off by the man’s fangs piercing deep into his neck with a growl, his body going rigid. However, he reached a shaking hand to rub at the vampire’s back, letting out a restrained cry of pain.

The vampire’s actions were desperate; sucking hard at the wound to get as much blood as possible, his tongue feeling about for a vein to switch to.

“I’m not—I-I’m not… going to hurt you,” Luthius swore. “You’re safe; you don’t need to be afraid.”

Suddenly, the man’s grip loosened, and Luthius felt him begin to grow limp in his arms, clawing to keep hold of him. Despite the pain, Luthius eased his body back into the stream as the vampire slipped back into unconsciousness, drying his hands on a towel and rubbing some of the powder from the jar against his neck. He used his hands to clean the blood off of the stranger’s skin, careful of the covered wound.

He’d hoped that the cold of the water would prevent the blood from flowing so quickly, and it was a much better alternative to wasting half an hour trying to heave the man up the stairs into his tub. In an odd sort of way, Luthius was glad the vampire had woken to attack him; the wound seemed to heal a slight bit to the point where the bleeding was noticeably less profuse.

With gentle hands, he threaded his needle, drawing the vampire close and began to suture the wound closed. It was a bit difficult to do, considering how deep the wound was, combined with the gap between the skin apart from the gash, but it took him roughly ten minutes to complete the job, even going so far as to double over for good measure in case the man had another sudden burst of consciousness and would unintentionally cause his stitches to pop.

When he was finished, he rubbed his powder over the wound, hoping to erase most of the bleeding that would result, and lifted the man and his clothes from the stream and into his arms. He made the decision that he would set the stranger on the sofa before his fireplace to dry off atop a few towels, then move him to his own bed. Where he himself would sleep, Luthius wasn’t sure, but he’d find someplace to lay down, that much he knew, but his new acquaintance needed a more comfortable spot than he did.

He set the vampire down carefully in his armchair, rushing to his bathroom to retrieve some towels, which he delicately folded over the cushions of his sofa prior to easing the stranger onto the sofa. Luthius gazed down at him, kneeling at his side and passing a gentle hand over his chest as the man shivered and shook.

“I’ll get you all warmed up and dressed, don’t you worry your head about it.” Luthius smoothed his fingers through the man’s damp hair, being sure to drag it out from behind him so that it could dry properly. “Apologies in advance, but with the state of your clothes, I’ll have to take your measurements to fit you with new ones.” He paused. “Not that you can hear me, of course. I suppose I’m just nervous that you’ll wake up angry with me.”

His guest, of course, remained silent, apart from his slow, steady breaths, and Luthius found himself chuckling at the odd state of affairs he’d been thrust into.

Especially as a vampire hunter.

Normally, he would put a swift end to any vampire that trespassed into the boundaries of his town, but there was something odd that he couldn’t quite place about this one in particular. That. and he didn’t gather that the vampire had intentionally wandered into town, rather than being chased by whoever had wounded him.

He decided that he would wait until the stranger awoke to question him on his intentions, ill or otherwise. It would be no good to kill a man with no will to do anyone harm, despite the bite wound that had been inflicted upon Luthius.

“I wonder just who you are,” he murmured, then moved towards the fireplace, which still burned steadily from the remnants of wood and coals that had previously been five blocks of wood just hours earlier. He drew on a glove, picking up a few more blocks of wood from a woven wicker basket beside the fireplace and setting them atop the coals, stoking the fire with an iron poker.

Luthius rose upward, taking hold of a blanket folded over the back of the sofa and tucking it around the man. “There we are. I hope that feels alright.” He patted the stranger’s cheek. “You’ll be just fine. I’m mostly certain vampires can’t get a fever, or colds.” The hunter let out a sigh. “I suppose I should go siphon some blood to feed you later, hm? I can’t just let you starve, now can I?”

The man moved to a door beside his fireplace, glancing back towards the vampire before easing it open, revealing a winding set of stairs. Luthius began to descend, rolling up his right shirt sleeve halfway up his bicep as he came into a room dimly lit by the minimal moonlight that shone in from a small set of windows that sat level with the grass outside. Feeling around a nearby counter, he found a matchbox, plucking one free and striking it to light the wick of the oil lamps about the room.

Soon, the room shone a pale yellow, giving light to a series of shelves and cupboards that housed his family’s hunter’s weapons—crafted specifically for dealing long-lasting wounds to vampires and other immortals alike and rendering them unable to heal at a regular, supernatural speed.

In the basement room, there was also a series of more hospital-grade medical supplies, such as IV drips, and various surgical instruments, also serving as a pantry for non-perishable foods. He drew out a hollow needle attached to a tube, browsing one of his shelves housing jars that would usually be filled with jam, and collected four of them in his arms, placing them atop the counter.

Luthius seated himself in a chair, using a roll of bandages to form a tight wrapping around his upper arm, and found a vein. Dabbing a bit of antiseptic onto a cotton ball, he swabbed at the area to clean it and let it air dry for a moment before slipping the needle into his arm and holding the tube into one of the jars.

A pint of blood was safe to take, he surmised. He was relatively athletic, wasn’t anemic, and would just need to take more vitamins, at least. Normally, he wouldn’t do this sort of thing for anyone; much less a vampire, and even less so a vampire who was also a stranger.  
He hoped that it wouldn’t go to waste.

Once he was finished, Luthius carefully slipped the needle from his arm, placing a cotton ball over the entry point and using the bandages wrapped around his upper arm to hold the ball against his skin instead. He screwed on lids to the jars, careful not to let any come loose in his grip while he carried them back up the stairs.

Doing the math, if he fed him two ounces of blood a day, it would last just over two weeks. Getting the vampire fed, however, was a different matter entirely. He wasn’t exactly keen on feeding a tube down into the vampire’s stomach to do so, but he wasn’t sure if he would swallow liquids in his state, but that was a problem for tomorrow’s Luthius.

Today’s Luthius needed to store the blood in his icebox and take the man’s measurements.

It wasn’t a very lengthy process, especially with a still subject, and he charted them down in a notebook. He had spare fabrics in his bedroom closet, which would probably do well for shirts and pants, and save him a large sum of money; he made most of the clothes he owned, after all. He’d been doing so ever since he’d turned twelve.

All of his clothing had been hand-me-downs, up until he had turned ten, and his elder brothers had taken to burning their old clothes to spite him. Of course, they had all made fun of him at first, with his clothing turning out tattered and coming apart at the seams with his first few pairs of shirts and pants of which he had made from old curtains or sheets. But within a year, the townspeople were making remarks about the intricate level of his handiwork.

Luthius had been the youngest child of three. His mother, rendered injured and weak from an infected incision wound that had been made to take him from her wound, had passed only weeks after his birth. His father blamed him entirely for what had happened, and as a result, he’d been cast aside and abused throughout his entire childhood.

The only useful thing he’d learned from any of them was skills that involved hunting vampires, but even then, it hadn’t taken him long to surpass them. Thankfully—as cruel or selfish as it may sound—they had all perished during a hunting assignment that Luthius hadn’t been called for, on account of him being called for a meeting amongst the other high ranked members of the Vampire Hunter’s Association.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the vampire shifting slightly towards the warmth of the fire, and felt a smile donning his face.

_Hopefully the vampire would make for much better company._


	2. Casimir Carrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trauma is ~spicy~

Within the course of a few days, Luthius had made the vampire half a week’s worth of clothes, and a nightshirt with cotton pants. Feeding him had been easier than he anticipated; after hovering a spoonful of blood beneath the vampire’s nose for a short amount of time, he would awaken in a deep, hunger-driven haze, not coherent enough to speak, but enough to swallow both the blood, and painkillers Luthius slipped in with it.

Without them, he noticed that the man would often thrash about in his sleep, howling in pain like a madman, even going so far as to claw near his stitches, almost slicing them apart one afternoon that Luthius had been tending to him. It was a sad sight, watching the poor creature toss and turn so helplessly, unable to awaken.

He decided, having done most of his preparations for when the stranger would regain consciousness, that he would return to the stream to wash what he could out of the bloodied clothing he’d met the man in, and make any needed repairs. Luthius set up his washboard in the slightly sun warmed waters, wetting a bar of soap and scrubbing at the fabric before dragging it along the board.

The water quickly became tinged slightly pink as a mixture of blood, soap, and water slipped down into the stream, and after working hard at just the shirt itself, Luthius sat back, panting slightly, rolling up his trousers and dipping his feet into the cool water for a break. He gathered clean water into his palms, splashing it onto his face, which shone with a small bit of sweat, his right arm spent from the blood that had been drawn from it days prior.

However, he spotted a white fabric sticking up from a pocket of the vampire’s trousers and pulled it towards him, slipping it out to find a crisp, neatly folded handkerchief embroidered with a golden thread. When he unfolded it, he spotted a set of initials that had been intricately sewn into the fabric.

“M. E?” He spoke aloud with a frown. “How curious. I wonder—” Luthius froze, his breath hitching suddenly.

_Merlin Evergrey?_

Merlin Evergrey, known more formally as Lord of Vampires, was the first vampire known to exist, and leader of a tightly knit organization that was a natural born enemy of the Hunter’s Association; the High Court, otherwise known as a small group of only the highly elite vampires descended by those first turned by Merlin himself.

But there was no fathomable way that the Merlin Evergrey, Lord of Vampires himself, had been the one to stumble into his garden. There had to be other vampires with those initials.

Oddly enough, though, it made sense. From what he’d heard from the association, his appearance matched. Long, wavy hair with a color that Luthius found closely resembled freshly made caramel, two sets of fangs—two on his upper row of teeth, and two on the lower, and eyes that were bright gold. Although, in fairness, all vampires had distinctly yellow eyes, apart from newborn vampires, of which they would be mostly red. He had a roman nose as well, with a less distinct arch from his brow line.

It was strange enough that he’d found a vampire of all beings half dead on the grounds of his manor house, but such a powerful one that was unaccompanied by his companions? He’d either come across a stroke of luck given to him by the gods themselves, or an incredible misfortune. He wasn’t sure which one of the two it had been.

Deciding that Merlin’s clothes were rendered beyond repair—and far beyond what his soap could clean—he lifted the washboard from the stream, placing the clothing on top of it and carrying it inside to toss them in the garbage. He began his way upstairs to his bedroom, tentatively inching the door open, thankful to find that his guest was sleeping peacefully in bed.

“Pardon me, Mister Evergrey,” he spoke. “I’ve come to change your bandages.” Luthius stepped towards the bed, reaching for the roll of bandages and gauze he kept on the side table for him before drawing back the covers. It was a bit unnerving, knowing he was nurturing the most powerful vampire in existence. He untucked the end of the slightly bloodied bandages, reaching beneath Merlin’s back to lift him upwards to unwrap them, wetting the gauze with a damp cloth before peeling off the gauze and rolling it up in the dirtied bandages.

A soft groan of discomfort slipped from the man, and Luthius glanced up, halting his movements in case the vampire began to wake, but Merlin merely settled back against the pillows. He had been moving around more than in the fast few days, even murmuring incoherently and making fullbody movements that didn’t consist of thrashing about in his sleep.

He figured that he would wake soon, and would be awfully hungry. After all, he was only able to feed him blood, not any sort of solid food.

Luthius had a friend in town, Casimir, or Casey to his closer companions, who was the local butcher. He owed him several favors that the hunter had yet to exchange, having normally asked for small cuts of meat for dinner in return. He had a small sum of money saved away in a small coin purse that he figured would cover half of a large cut, and made the decision to pay Casey a visit after taking care of Merlin’s basic needs for the day.

The two of them usually met for tea once a week, but he hadn’t had the chance. He wasn’t sure how his closest friend would react to being told that he’d needed to take a raincheck on their chats on account of bringing in a random vampire. Him taking in a pack of rabid, wild animals would be less concerning in Casey’s eyes, and he was sure to get a lecture on the dangers of his actions.

“Mm…” Merlin groaned, shifting over in bed, his hand brushing over Luthius’s own, and he squeezed it in his palm.

Heat rushed into the brunet’s cheeks, and he tittered softly. “My, you’re just a sweet thing, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “I bet you’re not so scary as they make you out to be, hm?” Luthius pulled his hand back, moving Merlin’s wrist to settle on the bed sheets while applying gauze over his wound. “Poor dear. You’ll be alright. I just hope you won’t be too panicked when you finally come to.”

Once his wound was rewrapped, Luthius gave his shoulder a gentle pat, pulling up the covers and tucking them around Merlin, who had begun to shiver in the short time he’d been uncovered. “Get all the rest you need, dear. I should be back in a few hours.”

He moved down the stairs, rolling down his pant legs and tugging on a coat with a pair of boots. He wondered what Merlin was like. Files in the Hunter’s Association archives depicted him as a cruel, rutheless being that eviscerated any human to cross paths with him with a single hand; but that couldn’t possibly be all that awful, especially not to the other vampires in the High Court.

In truth, however, despite his nerves about the vampire, Luthius was overjoyed Merlin had fallen into his care. Even though he was a famed vampire hunter, Luthius was an odd sort. Rather than damning the existence of vampires, he appreciated them. If vampires didn’t exist, he’d be out of one of the best jobs someone could get without an advanced education. Subsequently, he greatly appreciated Merlin as the unintentional cause of his job having been created, as morbid as it may sound, what with the masses of hunters that lost their lives yearly to vampire attacks.

Though Luthius hadn’t cared much for humankind, extending it the same courtesy as it had done him when he was a child left at the mercy of a toxic, abusive family, his pleas widely ignored by the townspeople of his youth and adolescence. He guessed that was why he’d felt so attracted to Casey. Luthius was the only one in town who knew he was a vampire. The last to know were his fathers and brothers before he’d thrown the suspicion off of his friend by twisting the rumors.

Though he was sure the real reason his father didn’t report him to the association was in hopes that the vampire would slip and end Luthius’s life.

He’d met Casey on a night he’d been conveniently forgotten out in the town. Luthius caught him in the middle of draining an older man to death on the outskirts of his business. The man had been about to turn on a young Luthius, but at the realization of his sorry state, he’d chosen to take him in for the night instead. He remembered it quite clearly.

_“You’re the Van Helsing’s child,” Casey said. “Why are you here?”_

_Luthius’s breath shook, and he lowered his head. “I-I was left here, sir.” He hugged his arms around his chest, shivering from the cold. “Father—Father says it’s rude to interrupt while someone is eating,” the boy spoke in a meek, quiet tone. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”_

_Surprise flickered over Casey’s face. “You must know what I’ve just done.” The vampire motioned towards the motionless body he’d cast aside. “Are you not afraid?”  
“W-will you hurt me?”_

_Casey paused. “I’m not sure just yet.”_

_The boy shook his head. “Then no, sir.”_

_A curious glint flashed in Casey’s eyes, and he knelt down beside Luthius, giving his hair a gentle ruffle. “Are you going to tell your father about what’s happened just now?” Casey queried, pleased when Luthius shook his head. The man rose to his feet, offering him an intrigued smile. “Come. Let’s fix you with a warm meal. You look half frozen standing out here by yourself.”_

_“Y-you’re not going to eat me?”_

_“Certainly not.” Casey shook his head. “I’ll wait until you’re older, and have more blood in you.” He offered Luthius his hand, leading him towards the door of his shop. “My name is Casimir. You may call me Mister Carrigan.”_

_Luthius smiled. “Thank you, Mister Carrigan.”_

Casey’s home was often a solace for him whenever he was sent into town. In many ways, the man had been more of a father to him than his own, and as Luthius grew older, Casimir had even attempted to bribe his father with money to give him up. Luthius’s father, however, hadn’t been so eager to let his son have any chance at a better life.

It wasn’t a far distance from Luthius’s manor, just a ten minute walk, and the young man soon found himself standing outside the glass panes of the front door. He could see him inside, in the process of dividing what looked to be beef into even cuts, despite the sign on the door having been flipped to show that the shop was closed. Before he could knock to be let in, Casey’s head flicked upwards, meeting his gaze.

“Luthius!” The vampire cried, turning towards the sink beside him to scrub off his hands before rushing to the door, fishing about his work apron for the key to unlock the front door. “Come in, come in! Where have you been?”

Despite Casimir being hundreds of years older than him, his immortality didn’t allow for any ageing, and the two looked nearly identical in age when it came to having a youthful appearance. Luthius himself was barely twenty-six, and if he had to admit, it was quite the surreal experience, looking the same age as the man who could take credit for most of his upbringing.

“I’ve… been busy, Casey,” the mortal admitted. “Incredibly busy.”

“Too busy for your dear, worried dad for all intensive purposes?” Casey held Luthius’s face in his palms, peppering his forehead with kisses. “In any case, I’m always happy to see you.”

“Well, if you must know the reason for my business,” Luthius began to wince. “I’ve found myself in the company of a vampire.”

The elder man froze, his eyes widening, and he held Luthius by the shoulders, fixing him with a hard look. “Louis, what have you done?” He asked sternly, standing back to fold his arms over his chest and lean against the counter, when he spotted the healing marks on his companion’s neck. “You’ve been bitten?!”

“B-bitten, yes! Turned, no, I assure you. I’m fine.” The latter let out a sigh. “Just a few days ago, I found a vampire collapsed in my garden unconscious. My theory is that a hunter cut a deep gash in his chest, and he escaped into town. I couldn’t just let him die out there, so I cleaned him up, sutured his wounds, and he’s been asleep in my bed ever since.” Luthius rubbed at the back of his neck, biting down on his lip. “He regained consciousness for just a minute when I put him in cold water, and attacked me.”

“And this vampire,” Casey paused to motion for Luthius to follow him upstairs into his main home apart from his shop, waiting until the brunet seated himself on his sofa to continue. “What do you know of him? Are you certain that he poses no threat to you?”

Luthius’s breath hitched. “You… may want to have a seat,” he mumbled, earning a look that was a mixture of confusion and concern as Casey eased himself down into an armchair across from him, removing his apron and folding it up in his lap. “I… seem to have taken in Merlin Evergrey.”

If there had been any color in Casey’s face, it had long left by the time he’d stopped speaking. He leaned in, face stricken with fright. “Now, Louis, you know I crack a few jokes, but something like this?”

“It’s no joke, Casimir!” Luthius scolded him. “This is precisely why I’ve come to you!” He crossed a leg over the other with a huff. “He’ll awaken soon; I know that much for a fact. I came to exchange a favor in return for a particularly large cut of beef.” The man drew a coin purse from the inner pocket of his coat, holding it out in his palm. “I’m certain he’ll be famished, and I know for a fact that the next best thing to a vampire than blood is raw and cooked meats.”

Casey balked. “Luthius Arthur Van Helsing, this is the Lord of Vampires you’re speaking of so nonchalantly,” he reminded him. “He won’t take kindly to waking up in the home of a human stranger, nevermind the fact that you’re a hunter! You could be killed!” The vampire shook his head in disbelief. “You’d be better off handing him to me instead. At least then, he’ll know he’s in somewhat trustworthy hands.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I _do_ understand—I understand fully,” Casey refuted. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t come to me sooner. Did you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.” Luthius held his head in his hands, pushing his hair back. “I didn’t come because… I wasn’t mentally prepared enough to get an earful about how irresponsible my actions were after siphoning a pint of my blood into jars and making sure he didn’t die during the night, and had clothing that fit him to wear when he woke up.”

A sigh slipped from Casey’s lips. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to argue with you. I lost my composure, and should be hearing what you have to say.” He stood from his armchair, instead choosing to sit beside Luthius, placing a hand on his back and offering him gentle, rhythmic rubs in small circles. “I’m only upset that you’re attempting to handle all of this by yourself.” Casey tilted his head so that their eyes met. “Have you set yourself on nursing him back to health?”  
Luthius nodded.

“I suppose you’re a grown man, and I should respect your decisions, but this isn’t some wounded bird, or an injured pup you’d find in an alley.”

“I know.” Another nod. “Originally, I was taking him in for pity’s sake, but once I realized who exactly I was dealing with, I felt more indebted to him than anything.”  
“Why is that?”

The younger man chuckled. “You know why, Casey.”  
Casey gave him a gentle hug from the side. “I’ve met him before, you know,” he said, catching his companion’s attention. “He and my father used to be quite close before they had a falling out, so I knew him fairly well—though that was almost a millennia ago.” The vampire leaned back against the cushions. “He’s an interesting character, for sure, there’s no doubt about that. Why, looking at him, you’d think he was just barely a man; acted a bit childish back then, too, but that’s a typical trait of anyone who’s given too much power than they know what to do with.”

His words earned a titter from Luthius, and he continued on. “He hadn’t been the one to turn my father, so my family doesn’t belong to the High Court, but he’d been tempted to make an exception for him.” Casey drew in a deep breath. “The man’s a wild card. Very polite, cool, and collected, but he’s incredibly difficult to read. You’ll have to be careful with him, provided he doesn’t shove his fangs back into your neck.”

“Considering my only friend is a member of the undead, and I’m a hunter I don’t think it will be too hard to avoid a bite—not when I’m on high alert, that is,” Luthius assured. “But back on the subject of meat?”

“Ah, right. Your favor.”

Their favors worked in a simple way. Since Luthius kept the suspicion of the Hunter’s Association away from the town during their monthly examinations, keeping him safe in the process, he would reward him with any cut of meat he liked. Much to his displeasure, Luthius almost always insisted on taking smaller pieces home, and rarely collected said favors, downplaying his actions as an obligation for Casey having been so kind to him all the time. He was delighted to find that his friend was finally asking for something decent.

“Yes. As I’d said, I was thinking of asking for a large helping of beef, if that’s not too much? I figured I could bring it home and cut it into steaks to keep cooled and fresh to make for his meals.”

“His meals?” Casey raised a brow. “Not for yourself?”  
Luthius gave a sheepish grin. “I’ll probably have a bit of it myself, don’t worry.”

Casimir groaned. “What will I do with you?” He stood back up, starting towards the stairs. “Follow me, and I’ll get what you need, dear. All I ask is that you promise me that you’ll save a good helping of it to make yourself something nice to eat instead of serving it all up to Lord Evergrey.”

“I promise,” Luthius swore.

A smile drew over Casey’s face, and he shook his head once more. “You’re one strange young man, I hope you know that,” he said as he brought Luthius down into his cool cellar, which shelved salted and brined cuts atop metal trays to help keep them cool. The vampire browsed them for a moment before lifting one from a shelf and placing it atop his scale. “I think five and a half kilograms should do you good for now. I wouldn’t want to give you too much, on account of the possibility that some of it’ll spoil before you get the chance to eat it.”

“Thank you, Casey,” Luthius breathed while the man started to wrap it up in parchment paper for him and placed it into two paper bags. “I insist you let me pay you for some of it, at least?”

“Louis, I know that organization doesn’t pay you nearly as much as it should,” Casey remarked. “Consider it a treat, both for you and for Merlin. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir.”

The bag was placed into his hands, and Luthius adjusted it in his arms as not to drop it. “Would you like to come over for dinner?” He asked. “I could brew some tea, and we could enjoy each other’s company?” Luthius’s cheeks darkened in color. “I’ve been going a bit mad only having an unconscious vampire to ramble to.”

Casey chuckled. “I’ll grab my coat. You just go wait upstairs, Lou,” he said. “And help yourself to a muffin while you’re at it; I baked some just this morning—they’re behind the counter.”

At the promise of freshly baked goods, Luthius eagerly rushed up the stairs behind Casey, slipping into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up when he spotted the basket.

The vampire cast a glance back to Luthius as the man eagerly surveyed the chocolate chip muffins to search for a good one, a soft, yet worried look on his face. “I hope to god you know what you’re doing, Luthius,” he whispered, low enough that he couldn’t hear.

Luthius delicately plucked a muffin from the bunch with a napkin from the small stack beside the baked goods, taking a small bite. The flavor was amazing beyond comprehension, as per usual when it came to Casey’s baking, and he was delighted to find that the middle of the muffins had been filled with a fluffy, chocolate buttercream frosting. He took a seat at the small bench beside the door, quietly enjoying his breakfast for the morning.

He’d forgotten to fix himself a plate of eggs earlier after waking up, having been too invested with his guest. His stomach didn’t seem to mind, having been used to being underfed, but he found himself increasingly thankful for the treat.

When Casey returned to the shop dressed in a cleaner shirt and a coat to find Luthius attempting to ration out his bites to savor the muffin, he gave him an amused smile. “Take another one for the road, Lou. Bring the whole basket, if you must.”

“A-ah!” Luthius rose to snatch up another muffin, stuffing the remnants of the first into his mouth, receiving a playful scoff in return at his lack of table manners. “Let’s—” He was cut off as a crumb was inhaled down the wrong pipe, and began to cough sharply, much to the continued amusement of Casey, who began to laugh at his plight for air. “L-let’s be off then, shall we?”  
“Of course.”

Upon their arrival back at the manor, Casey was eager to see the truth of Luthius’s words for himself, giving Merlin a small once-over, and seemed incredibly impressed with Luthius’s skill in taking care of him, what with the condition the vampire was in. He confirmed Luthius’s claims without hesitation; the vampire he’d taken in was indeed the same Merlin Evergrey he’d known in his youth, albeit his appearance being slightly matured, and taller from last he’d seen him.

“He’s most definitely going to wake soon. The way he is now, he’s probably been in a survival state. Now I’d guess he’s in a deep sleep, at most.” Casey motioned to the vampire as he turned over in bed with a soft groan. “I’d say you’d probably have decent luck waking him up now, if you shook him hard enough.”

“I’ll let him sleep,” Luthius said.

Casey hummed. “If you’d like,” he began, “I could stay overnight, just in case he wakes while you’re asleep?”  
“Casimir, you fall asleep reading in your living room on a daily basis,” the latter teased. “You’d fall asleep long before I would. And besides,” he paused to readjust the covers around Merlin, brushing the man’s hair from his face. “That’s something I feel I should do by myself.”

“So be it, then.” Casey promptly left the room, waiting until Luthius had exited to shut the door behind him. “Did you have a plan for supper? I’d be more than happy to assist you with whatever you plan to make, dear.”

Luthius shook his head. “I figured I’d improvise with the meat you gave me, at least for tonight. I have some spare chicken from last week that’s still good to use, and some rice and vegetables,” he said. “It would make for a hearty meal depending on how I mixed it up.”

“That could be interesting,” Casey hummed. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it will taste amazing.”

The smaller man beamed up at him, hugging his arms around Casey’s chest.

A feeling of paternal pride filled Casey’s heart, and he gave him a tender squeeze. “I love you, Luthius.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Casimir tousled Luthius’s hair, linking arms with him and giving his cheek a pinch. “Alright, cheeky boy—tell me what I need to do to help you make something before you butter me up too much.” He made his way into the kitchen, Luthius at his side. It warmed his heart when the young man called him Dad. It had first been a slip-up when the latter was a small boy after Luthius came to visit him a few times proceeding their first meeting.

It had grown from accidental to a habit, and having no children of his own, Casey didn’t mind, what with taking him in at least once a week whenever his father dumped Luthius off in town and left him to walk home.

In truth, Luthius had his own bedroom in Casimir’s home, and he’d even invited Luthius to live with him after the death of his family, which he had for a year before deciding to return home and renovate the manor to suit him better. He’d hoped that the man would sell off the manor and stay with him permanently, but acknowledged without complaint that Luthius needed time to himself to figure out what all he wanted to do; both with the manor, and the new freedom that had been granted to him.

For dinner, they decided upon collaborating to put together a savory combination of marinated chicken and sliced beef with celery, onions, and garlic over a bed of steamed white rice. Casimir was a natural talent in the kitchen, and with his and Luthius’s efforts, the dish turned out to be quite the spectacle to behold.

As the two of them seated themselves at the dining table to eat, Luthius realized just how much he’d been neglecting his own needs, his stomach twisting itself into painful, starving knots at the mouth watering scents before his nose as he lifted a fork to his plate.

They ate in relative silence for a few moments, save for the occasional scraping of silverware, when a curious thought made itself present in Luthius’s mind.

“Casey?”

“Yes dear?”

“Do you… ehm…” Luthius cleared his throat. “Do you think he’ll like me? Merlin, that is?”

A chuckle. “Well,” Casimir began, “I’d say it’s a bit difficult to judge how he would react since it’s been ages from our last conversation, but Merlin’s always appreciated being around those who are polite and gentlemanly in nature and manners.” He took a sip of tea from the cup at his side. “In other words, he’d despise you.”

Luthius scoffed. “And to think I was about to thank you for the compliment,” he grumbled.

“That’s what you get for insulting my reading habits.”  
“It’s not my fault you’re old.”

Casey held a hand to his chest, mouth agape. “Luthius, how dare you!” He feigned offense, tutting at him. “I am at the perfectly ripe, young age of approximately eight-hundred-twenty-eight, if you must know.”

In the midst of enjoying the playful banter, Luthius managed to make quick work of his meal, his hands folded atop the table just before his plate as he awaited Casey to finish his own. He missed getting to have dinner together. It was always nice to have someone around to ask about his day and make conversation.

It would make a nice change of pace to have Merlin around for a while, provided that the vampire didn’t immediately try to tear out his throat. He loved Casey, of course, but… he could get overbearing, at times, which had admittedly been one of the few reasons why Luthius moved back into the Van Helsing manor. A fresh face and new personality would surely make for exciting company.

Besides, the Lord of Vampires wouldn’t kill the very man who was the reason that he was still breathing.

_… would he?_


	3. Merlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kissing the homies isn’t gay if you say no homo

It hadn't taken long for Luthius to fall asleep that night after a filling meal and an impromptu dessert of sponge cake Casey whipped up for them. Too tired to bring himself up to his bedroom and sleep on his chaise lounge, he had made the decision that his sofa was a comfortable enough place to sleep fully clothed, the warmth of the fire lulling him into a pleasant slumber.

The bright glow of the early afternoon sun's rays filtered in through the uncovered windows, waking the exhausted hunter, who tugged the blanket draped over himself up over his face. He was curled into the cushions, one leg hanging half off of the sofa, his hair in a tangled mess, the ribbon used to hold most of it away from his face strewn over the floor still half tied into a bow.

He was about to drift back off, unwilling to start the day, when he realized he'd slept in until noon, thereby missing giving Merlin his daily portion of blood.

A gasp slipped from Luthius, and he threw off the blanket, grasping his glasses that had been set on the table, and rushed into the bathroom to run a wet brush through his hair to freshen up before heading upstairs to check on Merlin's bandages. He opened the door slowly, poking his head in to find the vampire with his face buried into a pillow, shifting about in his sleep.

"Mister Evergrey?" He called softly. "I'm up to check your bandages again."

The latter gave a soft, low groan indicating the disturbance of his sleep, and Merlin defiantly pushed deeper into the pillows. "Mmn... I don't... want to get up... Tell the Court to... do as they wish."

Luthius held a hand over his lips with a light chuckle.

_Merlin was going to wake up soon, alright._

With that in mind, Luthius didn't think it would be such a good idea to accidentally wake him. However, a thought probed at his mind, and his eyes lit up.

He could always wake him up with a fresh meal instead!

The hunter silently left the room, closing the door behind him, and tried to make as little noise as possible descending the stairs. He walked into the kitchen, pulling open his icebox to take out the beef Casey had given him, which the vampire had generously cut into medallions the previous night while waiting for the cake to bake.

He drew out three of them, placing them atop a plate, and moved to the pantry cupboards to pull a sack of potatoes onto the floor, along with a pot from his countertop. Luthius rinsed a small helping of them in his sink, filled the pot with water, and placed it on the stovetop, being sure to carefully light it before turning his attention to seasoning the steaks.

It wasn't too long of a process; just a bit of waiting for the potatoes to go soft enough for him to put them in a bowl and mash them with butter and sour cream and a few minutes turning over the steaks in his pan, being sure to leave them rare. He even took the time to fill a syringe with blood and spill it into the three in a small hole.

After plating Merlin's food, he got started on a small dish of scrambled eggs and spinach for himself to eat.

As the scent of food flowed up from the kitchen, Merlin's stomach began to growl. The man groaned, forcing himself awake at the promise of a meal. He wondered who had been cooking—he guessed it was Sybil, or Noah. Both of them often cooked up something nice to eat for whoever was around at any given time.

However, as he lifted his head from the pillows and opened his eyes, he froze at the sight of an unfamiliar room.

_Where the hell was he?!_

Merlin jolted upwards in bed, gasping out as pain flared through his chest, and he glanced downward, lifting his nightshirt to find a skillfully wrapped wound. For a moment he sat confused, until he recalled the feeling of the tip of a rogue hunter's sickle slashing across his chest just before Merlin had the opportunity to kill him. He hadn't anticipated that the wound would be so deep, and had stumbled his way into a nearby town in hopes of snagging a bite to eat.

The last thing he remembered was collapsing into a heap in a garden near the outskirts after hoping to sink his fangs into the man that had been nearby.  
He carefully slid out of bed, almost in disbelief at the realization that he had been dressed and cleaned up. The vampire slid a hand beneath the bandages to feel at his wound, gasping out both in pain and surprise at the feeling of sutures. Furrowing his brows, he walked towards the bedroom door, opening it slowly. He could hear the sizzling of a pan, and smell a body of blood moving throughout a room he inferred to be the kitchen.

With a glare set on his face, he made his way down the stairs, when a man he recognized to be the same one from the night he'd fallen stepped out into the family room. However, the stranger spotted him quickly, just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, and his eyes lit up.

"Ah!" Luthius's cheeks flushed with heat. _He probably thought Luthius looked unkempt, what with his wrinkled clothing and hints of pillow marks on his face_ , he thought. "You're finally awake!"

Merlin slammed Luthius up against the wall, glaring down at him. "Who are you?!" He demanded. "What do you want with me?!"

Luthius fixed him with a disappointed frown. "Sit." He pointed towards the dining table. "Now."

"You think you can order me about as if I'm some—?" Merlin paused as the man pressed lightly on his wound and gave a grunt of annoyance before backing away. "Have it your way then," he muttered, moving towards the head of the table. "You must have some nerve... being a human and ordering me around. Don't you know who I am? What I am?!"

"Don't raise your voice at me." Luthius walked to the kitchen, taking two covered platters and bringing them to the table before he seated himself, easing the lid from the platters before their plates, revealing the light breakfast of eggs for himself, and the hearty steaks with seasoned mashed potatoes and gravy for his company. "You must be starved. Tea?"

The vampire narrowed his eyes, but sighed, resigning himself to the decision that he wouldn't get the answers he wanted from the stranger. "Yes." He dished himself his food, watching carefully as Luthius rose to make his way back to the kitchen once more, when the scent of blood caught his attention. Merlin glanced about, then shifted his attention to the steak before him and sliced into it.

What he smelled was a mix of animal and human blood that pooled beneath the meat as he eased a fork into it. With slight hesitation, he lifted it to his lips, placing a piece onto his tongue and giving it a thoughtful chew. His eyes widened in shock at the taste, and he swiftly returned to carving out slices of the steak, his stomach growling its approval.

In moments, Luthius returned with two teacups, setting one before his plate, and the other beside Merlin as he ate at a shamelessly fast speed. "Hungry, aren't you?"

"After losing half my blood and laying in a stranger's bed for lord knows how long, I'd suppose I have every right to be," Merlin remarked, reaching to raise the glass to his lips, when he noticed that it had been filled nearly to the brim with blood. He looked to Luthius with suspicion. "H-how did you get this?"

"Siphoned it from my forearm when I found you," Luthius stated. "It's what I've been feeding you while you were resting to perk you up. You were half conscious. I spoon-fed it to you." He gave a lighthearted chuckle. "You bit down so hard on it that you bent the silver." The man motioned to the steak. "I put some in the steak with a syringe before and after cooking."

Merlin gazed at Luthius, bewildered. "I..."

_No stranger had ever treated him so kindly before. Just what sort of odd person had taken him in, exactly?_

A cough slipped past Merlin's lips, and he cleared his throat, unsure of how to properly respond. "Thank you."

Luthius blinked owlishly behind his lenses, tilting his head, having not expected the haughty man to have thanked him—much less so soon. "Of course."

The two continued on their breakfast in peace, a tranquil silence enveloping the dining room only ever interrupted by the brief scraping of silverware and sipping their respective beverages. Merlin had finished well before Luthius, remaining at the table and observing him under a curious stare as his host savored his small meal.

When Luthius finished, he stacked their plates and carried them to the kitchen, followed closely this time by Merlin. As he laid the dishes in the sink to clean, he gave a soft hum. "My name is Luthius," he spoke. "You can call me Louis, if you'd like. I found you collapsed in my garden, and saw your fangs. I could only assume you suffered a wound from a hunter's weapon, so I brought you in and left you in my bed for the sake of your comfort while resting. You've been here for a week, almost."

"A... pleasure to meet you, Luthius." Merlin nodded his head. "My name is—"

"I know who you are, Lord Evergrey."

Merlin furrowed his brows. "Is that why you've done this?" He asked. "To earn a favor, knowing who I am?"

"Nothing of the sort," Luthius murmured, shutting off the water and drying his hands on a nearby towel before shifting the hair from his face. "I'd only connected to the dots when I was cleaning your bloodstained clothing after the first few days of caring for you." He offered him a thin, but friendly smile. "Your handkerchief? It has your initials very beautifully embroidered."

"You... washed my clothes?"

Luthius nodded. "My apologies... since I was so wrapped up in ensuring that you'd survive the wounds, the blood dried and soaked into the fabric. I got out what I could, but I ended up tossing them; I'm afraid that I don't have good soaps for cleaning out bloodstains."

The vampire found himself settling a hand on Luthius's own. "It's... alright. I'm alive thanks to you, after all. It stands to reason that my clothes wouldn't have been a priority." He lowered his guard slightly, when the man beneath his touch grew flustered. Merlin drew his hands back, using them to fuss with the light, cotton nightshirt that had been slipped onto him in his sleep. "I don't suppose I put this on?"

"Oh! No, I dressed you in it after I finished making it... I spent a small fortune of my time making you a few shirts to wear while I kept an eye on you. It was good busywork."

"It's—it's handmade?" Merlin stood back in shock. "I've... certainly caused you a fair bit of trouble, now haven't I?"

"Trouble? It's no trouble at all," Luthius assured. "I... never get to have the pleasure of company, so forgive me if I went a bit overboard. I've lived alone for so long; I wanted to be sure I was adequately hospitable." He bit his lip. "How does your wound feel?"

A troubled look fixed itself onto Merlin's face, and he glanced to the bandages beneath the fabric of his shirt. "Better than it did when I got it, fortunately enough. Not perfect by any means, but better than it would have been if I hadn't had any blood." He traced a hand over his chest and hummed. "Yours is some of the best I've had in my days, save for it being slightly stale. The... taste feels familiar."

Luthius instinctively raised a hand to cup around his neck. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I know vampires have their own blood preferences, so I took a bit of a risk taking out two pints."

Merlin ran his tongue over the remnants of blood on his lips, when he tasted something off and furrowed his brows. "What... what did you put in it?"  
"Hm?"

"The blood," Merlin spoke in a firm tone. "What did you put in it?"

The man jolted, startled. "Oh, just painkillers! I wasn't sure if they'd be any help." He reached into a cabinet, drawing out a bottle of pills. "I have a bad habit of running into things, so I have them stashed away. You didn't strike me as the type to admit to being in pain, so I've been feeding them to you with the blood." Luthius's face adopted a pained look. "Before I started doing that, you were thrashing about with night terrors and crying out from the pain."

"I..." Merlin clenched a fist around the fabric of his shirt. He could feel that the hot, burning pain in his body should have been much worse to endure than it was, despite the blood actively healing it. "Erm—I noticed that I had quite the hearty breakfast," he detracted. "But you only had eggs."

Luthius paused. "I'm afraid that I'm not awfully wealthy; with a manor like mine, I suppose it contradicts the truth. The steak was something I procured from a local butcher who owed me a favor. I sell floral arrangements and do other odd jobs in town for money; it doesn't net me much, but... people do appreciate it." He pushed his hair back with a hand, a faint, embarrassed flush tinting his cheeks. "I'm thankful enough to have inherited the manor from my late father. I mainly eat eggs from the town's farmers, and make vegetable soups—with chicken, if I can afford it."

Merlin felt guilt pool in his chest. An impoverished man had found him lying in his garden—Lord of Vampires, knowing full well what could happen to him, and had been feeding him his own blood for nearly a week while still feeding him better than himself?

"Well anyways, I feel that you're a better judge of the condition of your wound than I," Luthius started, giving Merlin's shoulder a gentle pat. "So please don't hesitate to tell me how long you'll need to stay."

"Stay?" Merlin asked. "Are you sure it wouldn't be any trouble?"

"Not at all! Don't worry; it's no trouble. I got the extra food I have primarily for you, so there's plenty enough to go around." Luthius squeezed Merlin's shoulder and chuckled. "Feel free to treat my home as if it were your own, Mer—ah, is that alright? If I call you Merlin?"

The vampire nodded. "Yes, that's perfectly fine." He fussed with the collar of his shirt for a moment. "Forgive me for my prior hostility, Luthius. I... just assumed that you didn't have the best intentions when you took me in." Merlin subtly inched towards him, subconsciously rubbing at the base of his aching throat. "If it isn't too much to ask... do you happen to have any more blood that I could drink? I need to feed fairly often, but if it's any trouble, it's not going to be a necessity for a while."

A hesitant look came over Luthius's face, and he touched a hand to his neck. "Ehm... the quart is still full, but it's only been a few days. I'd prefer it if you drank sparingly, as it would be dangerous if I took out much more blood in such a short span of time." He bit his lip. "I take two ounces from the quart to give you every morning. It should last just over two weeks time, but I'm not sure what to do after that."

Merlin could sense the slight fear in Luthius's hesitance, and he reached out, when he spotted the four healing puncture wounds on the side of his neck, and his eyes widened. "D-did I...?" He faintly remembered lashing out at a hazy figure in a moment of panic, surrounded by chilling water. "Did I do this?" The man brushed his fingertips over them, and Luthius shivered.

"It's fine; really. I'm glad you did," the latter eased. "It helped slow your bleeding."

"I can stave off the hunger. Don't worry—it won't happen again," Merlin assured, then drew back and glanced about. "Is there anywhere I might be able to freshen up? I didn't take much of a look around the room I was in before rushing down and shoving you into a wall..."

"Oh, yes! Follow me, dear!" Luthius took Merlin by the wrist, leading him towards the stairs, when he caught a glimpse of the troubled look on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong; it's alright." Merlin shook his head. _Other than the fact that a small, stubborn man three quarters of his height was telling him what to do and calling him dear as if he were a child, despite that he was older than his family's entire bloodline._

When they arrived back in the bedroom, Merlin began to undress, which Luthius didn't seem to mind. He drew off his shirt, stretching out his arms over his head with a sharp grunt of pain as a burning sensation shot up his chest, when he felt a pair of hands ease onto his hips. The man flinched, twisting around, and was about to question him, when Luthius interrupted.

"You've thinned out quite a bit since I first took your measurements for the shirts..." he murmured in concern, giving the skin above Merlin's pants a thoughtful, contemplative stroke with his thumbs, to which the man shivered, looking surprised by his touches. "You ate breakfast so fast earlier too... I'll give you larger portions from now on to make up for the blood, love."

 _Love?_ The vampire bit down on his lip to prevent from allowing any possible noise of approval to slip from him at the sensation of his waist being stroked, stunned. A human who knew what he was capable of was... willingly touching him. He couldn't catch an ounce of fear in the man's actions, unlike every other human who came within his presence.

"Would you like me to bathe you?"

Merlin stiffened, startled by the unexpected question. "B-bathe me?"

Luthius nodded with a titter. "You half stumbled up the stairs and can barely hold your arms out in front of you without shaking," he pointed out. "It would be a pain for you to do it yourself, and a waste of my warm water—no offense!" The brunet gave the bandages on Merlin's chest a gentle pat. "And it would hurt you a lot less if I helped. I can't imagine it would feel too good for you to be moving around so much.

There was a brief moment of contemplation, and Merlin eventually relented. "I suppose I might need a bit of assistance," he murmured, watching as Luthius retreated into the bathroom to start the shower before turning away and tugging off his nightshirt. "But really, Luthius. What do you stand to gain out of all of this? Taking care of me? You must have something you want in return—nobody's ever this kind to a vampire without looking for a reward."

"Well," Luthius began, "like I said, I don't stand to gain anything, really. But as I mentioned before... I'm terribly lonely," he admitted with a chuckle. "I'm not one to attract companions, really." He twisted the knobs of his shower, slipping a hand beneath the water to test the temperature. "If anything, we're helping each other. Apologies in advance if I come across as overbearing at times... it's a mix of both excitement and concern for your health, dear."

Merlin grimaced. "Sorry... I didn't... inherently mean to be accusatory. I've had the same attitude towards most mortals my whole life." He sat himself on the edge of the bed, folding his hands in his lap. "Humans I've observed only want one thing from me; my head on a stick, or something of value." He gave Luthius a look. "Before you, at least. You're the kindest one I've met."

Luthius raised a brow. "Me? A-are you sure"

"I don't exactly have people tripping over themselves to be my nursemaid, clothing tailor, and personal chef all in one go," Merlin mused. "Next thing I know I'll be nibbling at your neck."

"I might slap you if you tried. So long as you're living off of my food, and my blood, I make the rules. So no nibbling of any sort." The mortal laughed, then rested his shoulder against the doorway and beckoned Merlin towards it. "Shower's ready."

Feeling oddly content with the way Luthius was matching his tempo in playfully sniping back at him with pleasant banter, Merlin stepped into the bathroom, stripping himself of his drawers. "Well, aren't you going to help me, nurse?"

"Why of course, My Lord," Luthius snickered, proceeding to offer himself as a balance for Merlin to step inside of the shower and seat himself down. "You know, you have a bit of humor in you." He began to unbutton his shirt, catching the vampire's attention, then drew close to start unraveling Merlin's bandages to toss them in the garbage. "I might just enjoy having you as my guest, Merlin."

The older man paused to gaze down at his wound, then hummed, a faint, curious look crossing his face prior to gritting his teeth and furrowing his brows with a hiss of pain as the water rippled over it. The gash had definitely healed since the day he'd gotten it; there was no doubt about that. It looked well cleaned and cared for. "Well, whatever your mysterious motive for caring for me is... thank you, Luthius."

A light flicker of surprise flashed over Luthius's face. "And thank you for dropping half dead on my doorstep, Merlin." He tilted Merlin's head back to wet his hair, running his finger over the stubble of his chin with a thoughtful click of his tongue. "Maybe I'll do a shave as well, hm?"

"Do you have steady hands with a razor?"

"Depends on how well you behave." Luthius lathered shampoo into his hands, smoothing his fingers through his dark, silken locks, earning subtle groans of approval as he massaged it into his hair.

Merlin tilted his head to glance towards the human. "So, what are they?"

"Hm?"

"Your rules," Merlin clarified. "What are they? You can't possibly have just one for me."

"I suppose since you asked..." Luthius began rinsing out Merlin's hair, pondering a fair, easy set of standards to keep in their time together. "You can sleep wherever you'd like, though I'd prefer if you took my bed for the sake of your own comfort. Meals are three times a day, and I'd like you to eat each one of them to get your strength back."

He paused to slick Merlin's hair back with his conditioner, working at it for a moment before continuing on. "Blood will go with your breakfast, and you may not go out and drink from any townspeople. And please... don't draw attention to yourself."

"That sounds reasonably simple to follow," Merlin observed. "But it would be bad manners to take the host's own bed when receiving such extensive care. Surely you'd need a decent place to rest after waiting on me hand and foot all day," He said, earning a surprised look in return, which slowly morphed into a bashful smile.

"No, it's alright," Luthius insisted. "It wouldn't do you good to get stiff on my sofa."

Merlin clicked his tongue. "You may be right, but I... I'm a natural early riser, and if I'm honest, with these wounds I might need help out of bed."

Luthius frowned out of pity. "How much does it hurt?" He asked softly, touching a hand above Merlin's wound. "Should I give you a higher dosage of medication to help?"

"It's... manageable if I'm not moving much," Merlin sighed. "Fortunately not the worst pain I've endured."

"Tell me truthfully. How close were you to death when you collapsed?"

Merlin's face darkened. "Closer than I've ever been before." He bit down hard on his tongue.

"It's a good thing I found you when I did, then." Luthius offered Merlin's shoulder a sympathetic rub, but when the vampire seemed to subtly relax beneath his touch, he moved his other hand and began to gently massage at his back. "How long do you think it will take to heal?"

"It was with a hunter's weapon. With any other sort, it would be healed by now," Merlin thought aloud. "I'd guess... a month until I can properly ignore it and carry on without much complaint at the very least. Dastardly things." He let out a huff of annoyance, groaning softly as Luthius's hands worked his back. "I can't return to the Court in such a pitiful state. It would only serve to damage their perception of my leadership."

The brunet shook his head. "It's not pitiful. If anything, it makes you stronger knowing when you're having a moment of weakness."

"I am _not_ weak," Merlin snapped, startling Luthius, who drew his hands away. "I... I'm not weak."

Luthius tentatively came closer, dropping a chaste, comforting kiss against Merlin's forehead. "Having a moment of weakness doesn't mean that your entirety is weak, Lord Evergrey," he hushed, moving to rinse out the rest of Merlin's hair and passing him a soft sponge with a bar of sweet smelling soap. "Please don't misunderstand."

Merlin's eyes widened, and he brushed a hand over his forehead as warmth seemed to bloom from where Luthius's lips had touched.

"Your hair is surprisingly easy to work with," Luthius remarked while slipping his fingers through the long, dark strands to check for any residue. "I quite like long hair. It's very lovely. Would you like me to put it up for you after I dry it?"

The vampire snapped out of his trance of awe, clearing his throat. "I'd like that, yes." He glided the sponge over his skin after smoothing it over with soap, lightly scrubbing at his skin until Luthius plucked it from his grasp and ran it over his back. "Perhaps I could convince you to be my personal attendant back with the High Court?" Merlin asked half-jokingly.

"Would I be paid?" Luthius asked, then paused as a look of surprise flicked across Merlin's face. "A-ah—you were joking!"

"What would you charge?"

Luthius's breath hitched. "What would I...?" He held a hand to his lips in contemplation. "A kiss?"

A choking sound escaped from the vampire's throat. "A _kiss_?" He asked, startled, when a grin spread over the mortal's face. "Y-you were joking..." Merlin gave a nervous chuckle. "Weren't you?"

"Maybe," Luthius murmured. "Maybe not." He helped Merlin rinse off, then tucked a warm towel over his shoulders and gave it a rub. "Let me get you your clothes, darling. Sit tight and try to keep warm, alright?" The man stepped out of the bathroom, making his way into the bedroom.

Merlin's cheeks reddened, and he hugged the towel around himself.

_Was... Luthius flirting with him? Or was this just more playful banter?_

He nestled his nose into the fabric to find that it held the gentle scent of rain and rosewater. "His scent..." He glanced out into the bedroom, jolting at the sight of Luthius with a loose, silken shirt tucked into his pants, the collar and sleeves hanging half off of his scarred back, held up by his forearms. Warmth flowed through his chest, and he bit down hard on his lip, clutching the towel against his heart. "N-not _now_ ," the vampire growled beneath his breath. "Not a human."

"Did you say something?" Luthius turned his head to look back towards Merlin, beginning to button up his shirt.

"Ah... just mumbling to myself. Don't mind me." Merlin tugged the towel around his waist, struggling upward from the tub and leaning up against the wall for support. "Would it be rude to ask what's for lunch? This whole... half dying business has got me famished."

"Oh heavens no!" The mortal shook his head. "I planned to go out to the river and fish up some lunch for you. I was just out the other morning pouring water into the dirt and digging up worms to use for bait." He dug through the drawers he'd set aside for the clothes he made Merlin, drawing out a deep, scarlet satin shirt and black trousers with a pair of drawers and socks. "I polished your shoes as well, but if you'd like to come with me, I could offer you my boots?"

The immortal tutted his disapproval. "You don't have to give me your shoes, Luthius."

"It's alright, really. I typically go barefoot—I step in the water sometimes, after all." Luthius held out Merlin's clothes to him. "B-but you wouldn't have to come with me; in fact, it would be much better if you laid down and rested up."

"I deftly protest, my dear host. I'll help."

Luthius hummed. "Alright then, if you insist. Now, once you put those clothes on, I can put up your hair and give you a little shave afterwards; how does that sound?"

Merlin nodded, holding the clothes close against his towel. "That sounds nice." He moved to adjust the towel to dry himself, when Luthius brought another towel upward and began to dry his hair. "W-what are you doing?"

"You'd like to have dry hair, wouldn't you?" The latter asked him. "I doubt you can raise your arms to do it yourself, and I don't think you'd like wet hair making half of your shirt soaked."

"A-ah, I... suppose not." Merlin leaned himself against the wall beside the sink, gazing at himself in the mirror and keeping a close eye on Luthius while the mortal carefully massaged the majority of the water out of his hair. "There... must be some way I can compensate you for this trouble? Something you want?"

The latter thought for a moment. "Well... maybe," he considered.

"What is it?" Merlin's eyes widened.

"Er... you see..." Luthius gave a nervous laugh. "I'm no good at sneaking up on animals, I'm afraid. They smell me long before I can get close. I figure, with you needing to heal up, you'll need a lot of energy, and that means you'll need more to eat than my diet of eggs and soups."

"Go on," the vampire implored.

"That being said," Luthius paused to draw a brush from the side of the sink, beginning to run it down Merlin's hair from the bottom and working his way upwards. "I'll be needing to go out and buy some more meats soon—beef, pork, and the like, but maybe when you're recovered enough, you could... teach me to hunt wild game? For both of our benefits."

His request intrigued the brunet, who fixed him with an odd look. "That's all?"

"Yes."

 _What... a very strange man,_ Merlin thought to himself. _Wanting a favor that still gave Merlin something to gain out of it._ He drew on his underwear, followed by some socks, and a pair of trousers, intrigued by the sensations flooding through his body as Luthius's soft hands tickled his neck in the midst of brushing his hair. _It was nice, he thought. Nice to feel someone. No one ever touched him._


End file.
